Torn
by Lady Celebare
Summary: A little one-shot, Sirius's PoV: What was he thinking when he had to prevent Lupin from attacking Harry and co. in PoA? Remember to review on your way out ;) SLASH WARNING


**Notes:** Whoa. I haven't written in ages o.o So I may be a ted rusty... eheh ; Reviews make me very happy.

**Disclaimer**:Ok look, if I owned Harry Potter or the characters, Remus and Sirius would be openly shagging one another. And if you sue me, all you'll get is two bucks and a peanut :p And maybe some Anne Rice novels.

**Warning**: This is SLASHY, folks. That means male/male romance. Don't like it? Don't read it. Because moronic close-minded flames will be used to toast little statues of George Bush.

Not a drop of moonlight filtered into that dank, foul-smelling tunnel that felt so familiar to my weary feet. How was I to know that its rays were potent enough to change your shape again? I used to know the lunar cycles as well as you, because I loved to anticipate the changes it brought about. Not even James could predict the exact date of your transmogrification without checking twice with a calendar, or asking you. I never needed to ask. I knew well enough when your smell changed, when your eyes took on that feral flame, when you began to clamor for the dominance I usually held in our relationship. Those nights filled me with fire, as I'm sure they did you, and after a time you stopped fearing your changes so much because you knew we would be there to stop you hurting yourself. I know you learned to enjoyed those few nights before the full moon as much as I did. In the beginning, it was why I let you take the reins, and gave in to you – because I wanted to give you some source of pleasure amid the painful madness.

Azkaban robbed me of my sense of time, though. As the agony blended one day into the next, I no longer counted the days to keep track of your body. You weren't there to confirm my predictions. When I looked out my barred windows at the moonlit courtyard, I couldn't even tell whether the moon was full, or faking it. And after a time, I began to forget you, your smell, the color of your hair in the starlight, the taste of your flesh… they rob you of your happiness, the dementors. Everything about you gave me joy… everything about you, I lost, until I saw you again in the flesh, until I had my arms around you and knew you were truly there, and not some mirage concocted by my deranged mind.

This is why I was caught off-guard tonight. I didn't realize what was happening until it was too late to stop it. If I had remembered, I could have warned you, or perhaps soothed your feral soul to allow my godson to escape unscathed. However, there was no time for that. You weren't yourself. It had been so long since the Werebeast took hold of you fully that you forgot its strength, and you lost yourself to the madness like a helpless pup trapped in a maelstrom. Good god, _I_ was trapped. What could I do? I had just found you again, reunited the broken half of my soul with yours… and now I would have to hurt you in order to save the last of Prongs' line. If there was any other way I would have thought of it. I swear, I didn't mean to hurt you so.

When my teeth met your hide, the memories came flooding back like a deluge. I could see clearly that first day we met, both so young and yet so scarred. We understood each others' pain. Of us all, you alone understood the full extent of what made me loath returning home, and I understood the madness that consumed you whole and left you bloodied with self-inflicted wounds and terror in your eyes. It was fate that we should grow closer and forge a bond beyond friendship. James always seemed to distance himself from that aspect of our lives, though he would never condemn us outright. He didn't understand that lust had nothing to do with it – our two souls were part of one whole, and physical love was only one manifestation of that. Physical love cemented our bond in a tangible way and made it more real, for us and for our friends. By the time our seventh year rolled around, our flirting was as normal as James and Lily's, and meant more, in the beginning. Few of the boys in our dorm even raised an eyebrow when I would climb beneath your bedsheets and put a silencing charm over us. After the first few times we were discovered, they stopped poking curiously into our actions.

Of course they didn't understand at first. Hogwarts is no different from the Muggle world, really – we had those closed-minded individuals who scorned our relationship, and we had other boys clamoring for us to break up, so they could step in and bed us themselves. The Slytherins were unbearable at times. Embarrassment, infidelity, arguments, all threatened to break our bond. But what didn't kill us made us stronger, and by the time we left school, our hearts had gone through fire, and we thought nothing could tear us apart.

Oh, beloved… we were wrong. We were wrong.

I don't know if we'll ever regain the trust we once had. Despite my freedom, and your belief in my innocence, there lies a shard of doubt, a shard of hurt, because I _know_ you thought me guilty. Pettigrew's ruse was a good one, for it fooled my better half. If we get out of this alive… oh god, god! Why did it have to happen this way?

And now I'm tussling with you, as if we're two beasts pitted against one another, brutes out for blood, when in reality, strange as it sounds, I'm doing this out of love for you. Remember why I learned this little transformation in the first place – to keep you from killing somebody, because if you did that, they would put you down like a vicious dog. If they kill you, Remus, I will never forgive…

No, that's a lie. You've done nothing that needs forgiveness. I'm the one who ought to be begging you to take me back on bended knee.

When all this is over, I _will_ get down on hands and knees for you, Mooney. What you do to me then is your choice alone.

I suppose Azkaban didn't destroy me utterly – even in the middle of dire struggle, I still have time for the hormones. Ah, you always did bring out the best in me. I recall a certain taskmaster driving his pupil to study, even when that pupil had his mind firmly fixed elsewhere. I would have failed many a test if it hadn't been for you.

Remus! Remus, I can taste your blood! How can you forgive me for this? My teeth are in your flesh. Your coarse pelt, beautiful lupine pelt - strands like spun silver, Mooney! - fill my mouth, and its very feel brings back memories of a better time. But now I'm hurting you, and the snarl in my throat is aimed at you. You're not yourself, I know that, and I understand that this is the mindless beast snapping for my heart, not you. But I am of sane mind. Will you recall who gave you these wounds when you awake tomorrow?

The purgatory of Azkaban might be better than this agony of hurting you.

And now you've gone, fleeing into the forest at some unknown signal; I'm left limping, wounded not only physically but mentally, ready to howl at how all of this has gone so awry. But there are things to be done. Pettigrew! Pettigrew is the cause of all of this, and I _can not let him escape!_ Beloved, I will come back to you, and you can decide then.

Something more sinister than werewolves and death-eaters walks this wood tonight, though. Before I can find the stinking traitorous scum, I am caught, surrounded by death-eaters again, and anything I'd hoped about you and me is fleeing again in.

They're coming, they're coming, they're coming… REMUS! They're here for me!

I can't… I can't see it! I can't see you! What color were your eyes, beloved? What color is your hair? What does your skin feel like? What do you taste like? Oh god, the love, the pleasure, the comfort is… Please, oh please, don't take him! Please, all I want… all I… bring him back! BRING HIM BACK! I lost him once, I can't…

Who is he? Who is he who I love so dearly? My soul is screaming for him and I can't even…

Harry! Harry! My godson, my godson, my… I can't see. I can't see!

Love me, love me, my soul, my god, my-

REMUS!

Fin


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